Leprechauns and Lap Dances
by smalld1171
Summary: Sam and Dean investigate a strip club. Just a little fun for St. Patrick's Day.  I hope any who read will enjoy. Thanks. *Final Chapter Up*
1. Chapter 1

**Leprechauns and Lap Dances**

**Just a little St. Patrick's Day fun. I'm thinking just one more chapter after this one. I don't own anything SPN. **

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Dean sits there and quietly watches the show. Awesome. Totally, completely, unbelievably awesome. This girl can really dance.

"Careful Dean, your face will get stuck like that dude. Don't forget, we are here on a job."

"I know Sammy. I am on the case. And believe me when I say I have got my eyes peeled."

"Yeah, I can see that man. Maybe you should put your tongue back in your mouth though, you just look creepy."

The show ends and the lights come up just enough for the patrons to move to the bar for their next shot or head to the less than sanitary looking men's room.

Dean still can't believe it. Who would have thought a hunt would lead them to a stakeout in, of all things, a strip club? This may turn out to be the best hunt ever. At least it's got two of Dean's favourite things. Scantily clad women and beer.

"Okay Sammy, so what's the intel on this place?"

"You know, we could have discussed this in detail at the motel if you didn't rush out the door as soon as you heard the words strip and club."

"Yeah, well, I can't help it. I got a bit excited, sue me! I'm good now, thinking with the right head again. So, what are we dealing with? And you better make it fast Sammy, the next show is gonna start soon and I'm sorry dude but there is no contest between you and it."

"I get it man. Okay. Well, every five years men in this town go missing. One each day in the week leading up to St. Patrick's Day. And the only thing they seem to have in common is that they loved to take in a good striptease."

"Is nothing sacred? Can't a man even go out and enjoy the chance to observe the beauty that is the womanly form? Can they not sit and..."

"Give it a rest Dean. Your level of bullshit is making my eyes tear up."

"I do have a way with words bro. It's a proven fact. So these guys, they just stay, watch a show and disappear into the night?"

"Not exactly. They did a little bit more than just watch a show."

Dean's eyebrows lift up at that. "What, exactly, did they do Sammy?"

"I don't know if I should tell you. You may just end up having a bloody heart attack or something."

"You know me Sammy, always putting my own safety on the line to protect the innocent from evil sons of bitches. So, lay it on me bro, what else do you know about these guys? What's it gonna take to figure this out?"

"Well, the men who went missing? They did sit here just like us and watch a show or two but there was one more thing."

"Okay, could you get to the point Sammy, I am not gettin any younger here dude."

"How do you feel about a lap dance?"

Bloody awesome.

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**TBC...thanks for reading.. :)**


	2. Chapter 2

**Hello to all and thank you for coming back for chapter number two! I had thought this would be the last chapter but I have now changed my mind ;) I hope you enjoy and feel free to send a review my way, I would love to hear what you think. Thanks again! :)**

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"Lap dances? Seriously?" Man, could it get any better? "Do go on..."

"These guys, from what I understand were selected, singled out by one of the dancers. They would head off to the back room and never be seen or heard from again. And the girls? They would be gone too. Vanished into thin air. Weird stuff huh?"

"C'mon Sammy. Maybe they fell in love, ran away together..."

"Uh, no, I think not dude, these places aren't exactly known for their romance factors."

"Depends on what your idea of romance is, Romeo. Well, I guess it might happen once but if you gotta go there are plenty of worse ways."

Typical Dean. Sam opens his mouth to counter Dean's misguided view of things but the lights dim and the owner of this upstanding establishment announces the final performance of the night. The music starts, Dean turns back to the stage and Sam gets the not so subtle hint that their talk has taken a back seat, at least until after the show.

Sam looks to the stage and as the curtain opens and the dancer emerges from within a cloud of fog he feels his own breath hitch. This girl. Wow. She is decked out in, well, what looks to be shamrocks, and Sam decides it is a very, very good look on her. Even he has to admit it. She is a knockout of the nth degree and as she starts to dance it is obvious. They have saved the best for last.

Holy shit. Dean has never seen anything like it. Like her. His eyes are glued to her every move. He can't tear them away from her perfect form. Strategically placed clover just seems to add to the temptation he feels as he gazes upon her. She moves like fluid across the floor. She looks out into the crowd of onlookers and then her eyes rest on him. Only on him and he swallows in reflex. The intensity of her gaze begs him to look away. But he can't, he is transfixed. The room, the bar seems to melt away to the background and the only thing he can hear is the sound of his own heart as it beats wildly in his chest.

Then she does that thing. That thing that Dean loves, that puts him into a total alpha male mode, and it takes his breath away. She gently lowers to the floor, while doing the splits no less, and starts to pull her way along the stage. Slowly she moves, tantalizingly so. It's like watching a ballet, a perfectly choreographed and totally in synch display. Huh. He just compared something to ballet. Kinda weird but oh well, he can't think about that right now. All he can concentrate on is how she continues to inch towards him and her eyes, they are locked onto his. They don't stray. They don't falter. Heaven. It has finally found Dean Winchester.

Mesmerized. That is how Sam would describe the look that is currently plastered on his brother's face. Not the usual ogling. Not the usual drooling. He is absolutely, completely, and utterly entranced by this woman. And she looks to be in the same state. This beautiful, perfect woman is focused and intent on Dean alone.

Sam watches her progression towards the man that sits beside him and the younger brother needs to shake his head as he feels the oddest sensation flow through him. A flash, a twinge of jealousy. Towards his older sibling. Okay, that is beyond weird.

Sam takes a sip of his now lukewarm and fairly disgusting beer and looks away from the stage to gaze towards the bar. Towards the other patrons. And they all have the same look on their faces as Dean. No one moves. No one talks. Hell, it's hard to tell if they even remember how to breathe. They all just stand like statues, their eyes trained on the stage. On her. The hairs on the back of his neck stand up and it becomes crystal clear. He knows. This is what they are after. Why they are here. Her. This woman. She is the hunt.

Dean actually feels a tingle run through him, like a bolt of electricity as she continues to crawl. As she worms her way along the floor, closer and closer, to get there. To him. He can feel her soft, sweet breath on his face as they now find themselves nose to nose and eye to eye with one another. She bores into him and he feels heat, as a fire is ignited and erupts in his gut. He stares into those eyes. Green. Her eyes. Like emeralds. Beautiful.

The music stops and all too soon the routine is over. Dean's heart drops. He wants to reach out. Wants to touch her. But he can't move. He is frozen to the spot. He feels a burst of cold rip through him as she gently lifts herself from her position on the floor and turns to walk away. To leave him. Dean still can't take his eyes off of her. They roam over every inch of her body. He watches intently and silently wishes she would come back.

Just before she reaches the curtain she turns around and faces him again. His legs, they turn to jelly and butterflies invade his stomach when she sends him a very distinctive and undeniable come hither look. His pulse races at the thought that someone this beautiful, someone like her, is willing to waste her time with a nobody like him. He won't pass up this opportunity. He will get there, he will come to her.

Sam watches Dean in fascination. His brother rises from his seat and grips the back of the bar stool for support. No comments. No smart ass remarks. Just a look of contentment and determination. And his eyes. They continue to stare at the curtain long after the dancer has ducked behind it. Not good.

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**TBC... **


	3. Chapter 3

**Hello to everyone and thank you for coming to check this story out. I hope that this chapter is to your liking. Reviews are golden so feel free to send some my way if you are so inclined. :) Thanks again and enjoy!**

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Sam scans the area of the bar again and feels like he has been sucked into an episode of The Twilight Zone. All those men, the ones who just recently looked like a room full of zombies, zoned out and oblivious to anything but the damn stage, have suddenly become reanimated again. Like the light bulbs in their brains have suddenly come back on and there is now someone back home again. They talk, they laugh, they are right back to their normal selves.

So, what gives? Why is Dean still messed up? Sam sees the crowd begin to say their good nights to the bartender and start to leave. They don't even realize what had happened to them. They shuffle out one by one and Sam's blood turns cold when he peers over and catches the eye of the owner. He stands at the door and wishes his patrons farewell. He stares right at Sam and his mouth slowly turns itself into what Sam can only describe as a sinister smile. Okay, that can not be good. That has got trouble with a capital T written all over it. Need to get going while the going is still an option.

Sam's attention is back on his brother. His zoned out, not in his right mind, staring off into the distance brother. His mind races, he thinks, ponders, runs back over what he has learned about this case and is hit by the one fact that seems to have control of his brother right now. Of course. Duh. One man each night. One man is chosen. How typical. It just figures that it would have to be Dean who ends up being able to dazzle and get the undivided attention of some kind of inhuman creature. Man, after they get out of this Sam is so gonna mention that fact over and over again to his older brother. The only time he can get some action is when a baddy has an ulterior motive for it.

But, first things first, he still has to get them out of this dive. And as he looks to see the last of the crowd shuffle itself out of the door, he needs to hurry things up. It's just Sam, Dean and the owner of the place left.

"Dean?" It's like his brother doesn't even know his younger brother is there. No glance. No movement. No comments. No acknowledgement whatsoever. It is ultra creepy. Dean does start to move, but his eyes never leave the place he last saw her. There is no way in hell that Sam is just gonna let his brother walk away, go through that damn curtain to whatever it is that waits for him. Sam reaches out and gently grabs hold of Dean's shoulder. "Dean? Hold up man. Just wait a minute."

Okay. If he was feeling creeped out a couple of seconds ago, he has now reached the pinnacle, the top of the freaked out beyond belief scale. Dean. He turns his head and looks to the hand that has invaded his personal space. And he does it in what seems to be some kind of weird, slow motion move. Dean follows the arm with his eyes until they find its owner. Sam stares into those green orbs. But somehow they are different. Darker. He has seen that look before. But this is the first time that it has been directed onto him and it sends a shiver through him that rolls up and down his spine. Hate. That is what lies just beneath that gaze.

"Get your damn hand off me. I won't ask twice."

It is official. Dean has no idea what is going on here and Sam feels himself reel at the way those words were spat at him, as the venom dripped from his brother's tongue. So this time it would seem that is Sam's turn. To step up. To be the one to save his brother. "Dean, it's me. It's Sam. Look, you can not go back there. That bitch has messed up your head dude. Please, snap out of it bro."

"Shut your dirty cake hole. Don't call her that. You don't know what you are talking about. Now, take your hand off me or I will do it for you."

Shit. Sam has been so preoccupied with his brother that he didn't even notice the owner come up on them until he realizes he stands right at his side. "Excuse me lad, I'm afraid we are closing up for the night. If you would kindly let go of this gentlemen and take your leave of my establishment."

"Sure, no problem, my brother here and I were just about to go. C'mon Dean." Sam tugs on Dean who remains rooted to the spot.

"Looks to me like your brother isn't interested in leaving."

Sam doesn't respond, just becomes a little more forceful to try and get the blood flowing in Dean's fricked up head. "DEAN!" As he pulls and tries to turn Dean's body to the direction of the exit, he almost slams right into the damn dude. The dude who has now become the only thing between the two brothers and the stupid door.

"Sorry lad but Dean is it? Well, Dean here isn't going anywhere. I do believe he has a date with the lass in the back room. You, however, are free to leave. He stays and you go."

"Well, this is a dilemma. You see _lad_, I am not about to leave him in this shithole alone."

"Is that right?"

Sam doesn't even have a chance for a smart ass remark before the owner grabs his hand from its place on his brother and twists it behind his back. He can't help but let a small groan escape his lips. He can feel the heat of the other man's breath on the side of his face as the owner growls in his ear.

"Well then, I guess you will have to stay and enjoy the show."

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**TBC... Thanks for stopping by!**


	4. Chapter 4

**Hello to all and thank you for deciding to take a look at this next chapter. I do hope as always that it will be an enjoyable read. Thank you for stopping by and thanks so much to those of you who have taken the time to review. Feel free to send me your thoughts on this latest chapter, it's always wonderful to get feedback! Thanks again! :)**

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Show? Uh, Sam definitely does not like the sound of that. At all. Especially when he is pretty sure that whatever show this ass is referring to will star Dean as the main attraction. Okay, he needs to think. Kind of hard to do when he continues to struggle against the superman type grip this clown has on him at the moment. He screams out to his brother but as the laughter from his captor rings in his ears it is obvious that, at least for the time being, Dean can not hear him.

Stay calm. Just breathe. Sam needs to get a grip on his racing nerves, needs to clear his mind so he can come up with some kind of plan. By himself. Without Dean. He has to. So, although this dufus still has his arm pinned painfully behind his back, Sam stops his attempts to get free. It hasn't done him one lick of good so far and he needs to save his strength, keep his physical and mental wits about him if the two brothers are going to make it out of this shithole in one piece.

There is a bright side after all. Well, maybe more of a dim light. At least he is going to be led into the same place as his brother. At least Dean will not be left alone to face whatever the hell it is that waits for him just behind that damn curtain. Strip clubs. He always knew it. There are nothing but trouble.

Sam is dragged along the couple of feet that separate the two brothers and the greasy bastard that still has him in his grasp gazes into Dean's unfocused green eyes. Weird. Those eyes. Dean's eyes. They seem more vibrant that usual. More...green? Freaky.

The owner's voice cuts through Sam's thoughts. "She is just through there Dean. She waits for you."

It's like he's a damn robot. The older Winchester instantly complies and leads the march of the strange trio through the threshold, into the room beyond the curtain. Sam doesn't know why but he finds himself squint his eyes as he passes through the fabric and into the room. His hunter instincts perk up and he twitches like he has turned into an evil-o-meter. Huh, he is the human equivalent of an EMF detector. Neat. The room he finds himself seems to glow. An eerie, green glow is cast over each and every object contained within it. He suddenly hates that stupid colour.

His gaze returns to his brother and Dean's eyes are busy scouring the room from side to side and from top to bottom. God, he is searching for that wench and he looks like he is almost on the verge of a damn panic attack.

There is movement towards the back of the room and all three sets of eyes track towards it. There she stands. The dancer. The one they are supposed to be busy trying to kill right now. The thing that has Dean firmly wrapped around its little finger. Sam glances over to see Dean's reaction to her arrival and it creeps him right out. Like, right to the maximum of creepiness. All his brother needs is a damn leash around his neck and his status as obedient pet will be complete. Sam always knew his brother's fascination with the ladies would get him into trouble. He is so going to rub this in when...if they manage to get out of here.

"DEAN! Snap out of it man! It's just some made up image of your perfect woman. Evil to the core! Just like so many other creatures you have ganked over the years. What the hell is wrong with you? Dean? DEAN! DEAN!." Sam sees his brother's gaze drift for a moment, away from the bitch ahead of him, as it slowly starts to move towards him. That's it Dean, c'mon bro, come back. "That's it bro, it's Sam, just look at me, just..." Sam is cut off when the younger of the two brothers is on the receiving end of a well placed punch to the gut that takes his breath away.

The owner slams him up against the nearest wall and makes quick work of tying him up against a pillar. Really, why the hell is there always a column conveniently located in these kinds of situations? Is it listed as a must have in their how to guide on what apparatus to equip your evil lair with? It's maddening. Okay Sam, probably not the best time to lose your cool. By the time the stars fade from his vision and he has the ability to draw in a solid breath, Sam can tell that Dean is lost to that wench once again.

He almost had him last time so Sam knows his brother is in there somewhere. "DEAN! DEAN!" Umph... another punch and another round of stars circle his head. He is really going to enjoy beating the shit out of this asshole. No. Damn. Next comes the gag. His protests and calls out to his brother turn into grunts and whimpers when the fabric is shoved so far in his mouth he has to concentrate in an effort not to choke. This sucks.

The bastard sneers at him once more before he takes leave of him and approaches the woman who has drifted a little further into the room. Although Sam is a fair distance away and is sure he won't be able to hear what words are spoken, he swallows in reflex when he realizes he doesn't have to. Only one word leaves the mouth of that man. And that one word is Dean.

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**TBC... Thank you for checkin it out! :)**


	5. Chapter 5

**Hello to everyone out there who has decided to come and have a look at this story. I hope you will enjoy and I am so thankful to all who have taken the time to send along your thoughts. Feel free to keep those reviews coming, they are wonderful to receive. :)**

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Dean wants to move. He has never wanted anything this bad in his whole life. He wants to see her up close. She is there but she might as well be miles away. Too far away. Too far. He has to get over there. To her. He takes a tentative step forward but is halted as an elegant, perfect, ivory hand forms the universal indicator for him to stop. The smile she sends him makes his breath ramp up and want her all the more. But he doesn't want to piss her off. Doesn't want to do anything to make her change her mind. So, as much as he wants to run over there, he steps back. His eyes are still glued to where she stands but his heart drops when her beautiful features are hidden from view as the other man moves into his line of sight. Damn it. He'll wait. He'll be good. If it means having her.

Frustration builds up in the younger brother. He had seen a flicker of movement from his brother and thought for a moment he finally started thinking with the correct body part. But, of course, all too soon he is again reduced to her obedient pet. She is definitely the master of this situation and Sam sure hopes to hell he will have the chance to razz his dopey brother about this for, well, forever. For cripes sakes, Sam can even see his brother's blade from here. Damn it Dean, use the damn blade, you idiot!

So, because Dean appears to be about as useless as a cigarette without a match, Sam first wonders where that analogy came from and then diverts his attention back to the conniving duo at the other end of the room.

The greasy slimeball keeps his body in the correct position to obscure Dean's view and that sends Sam a bad feeling. Yeah, it's definitely confirmed when the so called woman turns her head to face him directly, so he can see her. And what his eyes take in amps up the fear for his brother by about a trillion. Not to mention the creepiness factor of this whole unreal thing is now off the scale. He wants to turn away but can't. He watches in absolute horror. As the true appearance of this thing starts to make itself known to him. The transformation is nothing short of grotesque. It knows he is focused on it and it wants him to see its true form. What a nasty son of a bitch. Sam doesn't want to give it the satisfaction but he can't do it. He can not tear his gaze away from the hideousness that begins, that stares straight at him.

The forehead, it elongates, and a bony ridge forms and protrudes across the brow. The eyes. They burn a bright, unnatural shade of green. The nose all but disappears and the cheeks sink so far into the putrid face that it gives off an almost skeleton appearance. And the mouth. The creepiest of it all. A sinister smile curls the lips of its hellishly wide mouth to proudly display at least one row of nasty, flesh eating type teeth.

Sam glances quickly to his brother, who remains in the same state. Docile and compliant in the face of pure evil. Perfect. Sam screams into the cloth in his mouth, pounds the floor with his feet and does so until he finally needs to stop when a bout of lightheadedness hits him. His gaze drifts back to the odd couple on the other side of the room and for about the twentieth time in the last five minutes his blood runs cold. She, no wait, IT, brings up a bony hand to its lips and imitates the action of shushing him.

Blink. Blink. Okay, what in the hell was that? Dean shakes his head slightly and tries to figure out just where he is and what the hell has happened to land him in... what the frick is this place? A Leprechaun's lair or something? Too much fricken green. Everywhere. Wasn't he just watching some strippers, um, stripping? Wait. Shit. Oh man, he is never going to hear the end of this from Sam. Speaking of, where the hell is that mop headed brother of his?

So, Dean is standing there like a fricken idiot watching his first porn flick, and Sammy is tied up to a damn pillar with a gag stuffed in his mouth and a really, extraordinarily worried expression on his face. Well, Dean is pretty sure that the bitch over there, or whatever the hell it is, is in need of a good, Dean Winchester style beheading. Mess with Dean's brain and you die. Mess with Dean's brother and you die. Make Dean look like a douchebag in front of his brother and guess what, you die. End of story. But he knows he needs to play along. Play the role for a little longer and then lights out you mother...

Sam keeps his gaze on the thing and watches when, in the blink of an eye, it morphs back into the image of its previous beauty. She smiles sweetly to the younger brother and motions for the owner to leave them. He strolls towards the exit of the room, casts a sinister smile at Sam and disappears through that stupid damn curtain. Sam doesn't even want to know what he is up to. Focus back on it, Sam sees the thing's eyes dart along the room until they land on the form of her prize. Dean.

Sam is sweating, his heart is pounding, the fear for his brother palpable. He tries and tries but can't seem to get free from his damn restraints. He doesn't know what that skank has in mind but it can not end well. For either of the two brothers.

The woman seems to float across the ground. It's eerie. There is no noise, no footsteps, just silence. She approaches closer and closer to Dean and he settles his nerves and doesn't flinch. Enjoy the moment sweetheart because your time is almost up.

"Dean. What a wonderful name. Deeeean. I love it. The way it rolls off my tongue."

Dean almost scoffs but works hard to keep up his poker face. Not gonna work bitch, that evil, whatever the frick spell you spun is now officially broken. All Dean can see is pure evil. And if it is evil, it has to die. Rule number one in the Book of Winchester.

Sam can only watch wide eyed and helpless as she slithers her way over like some kind of snake. A very sexy, very persuasive, skanky, piece of shit eviler than evil snake. Shit. His brother doesn't stand a chance with the way she continues to move seductively towards him. She steps right in front of his slack-jawed, totally immobilized older brother.

"Sit down Dean." Sam watches his brother, he doesn't say a word, doesn't question the command, just...sits. Like a good boy.

"I saw you Dean. The way you watched me. The way I know you want me..." Shit, she is going straight for the jugular. Sam fights and fights, yells and yells into the fabric, twists and turns and stomps his feet. He can almost hear the sound of his brother's heart beat as she moves in for the kill. She straddles his lap and talks into his ear. Sam knows she is talking loud enough so that he can hear. He wants to kill her so bad. "You are exactly what I am looking for. Handsome. True. With a big heart. Of gold. I love...gold."

What? Gold? Oh, no no NO! Dean! C'mon buddy, snap out of it, it's a freakin Leprechaun for shit's sakes! Of course Sam, you idiot, St. Patrick's Day and all that. Cripes. We are so screwed.

Then Sam sees it. The clench and unclench of his brother's fists. A slight twitch of Dean's jaw. Sam keeps focus on his older brother's face and, although his head doesn't move, his eyes do. And they are suddenly focused on him. On Sam. And then, just when Sam thinks he is suffering from delusions of what he hopes for it happens. The wink. It's subtle and it's small but it is there none the less.

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**TBC.. thanks again for stopping by! **


	6. Chapter 6

**Hi everyone. Thanks for coming back and thank you to all of those who have sent such lovely reviews my way, I appreciate it! I hope you enjoy this latest chapter. Please, drop me a line and let me know what you think if you wish. :)**

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Step one complete. Dean has successfully got the message out to Sam that he is back in the game. That all his marbles have been returned to their rightful place in his head. Dean is starting to get annoyed. This bitch is still whispering all kinds of bullshit in his ear. About hearts. And gold. And how Dean's will make a wonderful addition to the pot. Seriously? A pot? Of gold? Figures. Can't anything just be a fricken myth?

Okay. So, Dean is back. That's good. Sam watches his brother's hand start to move, very slowly. Inch by inch it maneuvers its way towards the knife hidden just within the lining of his jacket. He silently pleads to anyone or anything that will listen...please don't notice, please don't notice. Okay, his hand is on the blade. Sam is amazed at how stealthly his brother can be, his arm is the only part of his body that moves, the rest remains still.

Sam searches his mind. Has he even read anything about how in the hell you kill a leprechaun? His brain draws a blank and all he can hope is that the two brothers can figure it out before they have a pissed off green monster on their tail.

"Deeeean." Sam freezes and sucks in a breath through his nose as he sees his brother curl his fingers around the hilt of the knife and wait.

"You have been chosen. You will help sustain me. Us. You will provide the fuel, the power we need to survive. It's almost time for you to fulfill the purpose you have been made for. That has drawn you here, to this place, to me." As the thing speaks its voice changes in pitch and becomes stronger and louder and both brothers notice the glow in the room intensify. Dean is starting to get a very bad feeling about this.

"The time has come. Not much longer now Dean." The room begins to shudder slightly and Sam and Dean lock eyes for the briefest of moments. An area of the floor close to one of the walls seems to give way and a column of brilliant green light rises up in a flash and then descends just as quickly. Except now, instead of emptiness, the space where the light had appeared is occupied by a black, non overwhelming, plain looking cauldron, with a gold glow emanating from within its confines. Dean is speechless. You have got to be shittin' me.

Dean feels the thing on his lap move and watches as her face and eyes come back into view. She has a seductive, playful smile displayed on her lips but he notices it wither just a little. Something he sees in those greener than green orbs tells him he is almost out of time, that the jig is about to be up.

"Your eyes...they're..." She leans in a bit closer and tilts her head to the side, as if trying to decipher what she sees. As she does, Sam can see Dean pull the knife out of its hiding place.

"They're back to their normal gorgeous colour? They have been freed from your spell? You bet your ass they have you green blooded whore!" Before the creature has a chance to respond, Dean brings up the blade and in one fluid motion embeds it into the side of the bitch's neck and withdraws it culminating in a slurping, sucking noise. He uses his legs to send the bitch reeling from his lap onto the floor, coming to land in an unceremonious heap. She screeches and howls and covers her wound with her hand. It's official. She is definitely pissed off.

Dean jumps up and is over to his brother in about one second flat. Sam keeps his eyes on the creature as his brother works to cut him away from the restraints. Hurry Dean, the skank is getting up. Sam feels the binds give and finds himself looking into his brother's beaming face. "Sammy, you okay?" Sam nods and lifts his hands up to remove the gag but his eyes go wide as he notices too late that she is right up to them now. More to the point, right up to Dean.

Dean knows it's bad news. Sam's eyes are as wide as they can be without popping out of his damn head and he scolds himself for having turned his back on the bitch. "Shit. It's right behind me isn't it?" A furious nod of Sam's head is all the confirmation he needs and Dean feels the burn of his flesh being gouged by claws that have suddenly appeared on a once delicate hand, forcing him to drop his weapon. He finds himself airborne and lets out a grunt when he comes to a complete and sudden stop against the wall at the other end of the room.

As he shakes his head and blinks his eyes to try and get the stars to dissipate from his vision, he knows this is a bad spot to be. He looks to the side and finds himself within feet of that fricken pot of... cripes, he peers in and feels a burn of bile start to climb up his throat... hearts. Some black. Some gold. Some half and half. Floating around in some kind of goo. Yup, this is definitely a bad place to be.

He sees the creature, it starts to stride towards him and with each step parts of its human form are shed so that by the time it stands before the oldest Winchester it is in its true form. Gross.

The second Sam watches the thing turn its back on him and head towards his brother, Sam removes the gag, grabs the knife from where it lay on the ground and makes his way over to the other two figures. To do what he isn't sure but even if it won't kill it, a nice knife wound to the back would probably hurt like a son of a bitch.

Dean can't come to grips with the fact that he was about that close to putting his lips and hands on this thing. It's like looking at a walking skeleton, only a think layer of skin hiding the bones beneath. The face is hideous enough but the rest of the body doesn't bode much better. Dean's moment of disgust is brought to an end as the thing spits out words to him.

"I guess we have to do this the hard way. Pity. It's always more difficult for me and more painful for your kind when your pathetic human body tries to get away." And with that Dean is pulled up in an instant and slammed into the wall. "You sure are a feisty one Dean. I like that. Not willing to give in without a fight. So, instead of just ripping your heart out right here and throwing it into the pot while you watch, why don't we try the easier way one more time?"

"Go... to hell..."

By the time Sam stands behind the putrid form of the leprechaun, it has Dean by the neck up against the wall. Sam raises the knife but is taken by surprise when the thing turns to face him and lashes out with a clawed hand, sending him careening across the room and into a pain induced fog.

"Just wait here Dean, I'll be right back." It slams his head against the wall and Dean can't focus, can hardly breathe, and by the time he regains his bearings he sees the grotesque thing arrive back with Sammy in tow. A semi-conscious Sammy at that. Perfect.

"You...are so gonna die... Painfully."

"Don't worry Dean, he's okay. You should be more concerned about yourself."

Dean is about to come back with another scathing retort when the pot beside him starts to glow and so does the wench that holds him. Gold. Green. It grabs him around the throat again and he claws at the bony hand and wrist and tries to loosen the grip without effect. He looks down at Sam and notices him start to stir but, as if it can sense the movement, the creature puts a bony foot onto his chest and keeps him in place.

Dean looks at the hideous face and sees a smile appear once again. "Playtime is over. You will soon be mine. Soon your heart will beat with the others and you will restore life to more of my kind. You won't be able to fight for long, you will not be able to resist. Your brother can be witness to your sacrifice. He will watch as I rip out your heart and use it for fuel. He will watch while you do absolutely nothing to prevent your own death. That, my dear Dean, is the power, the allure of the leprechaun."

"What...you...been smoking... in your damn pipe... bitch..."

It closes its eyes. Dean sees it's mouth moving but can't hear the words. He fears that it is some kind of incantation or spell, and he knows that nothing good can ever come from that.

When the last word is spoken Dean is once again face to face with the human form of this stupid creature. But, he won't be fooled this time. She is a skanky, inhuman, needing to die bitch and it is going to be a pleasure to rid the world of her once and for all.

He is taken by surprise when the eyes flicker open. When he feels them burn into his. They burn. Brighter and brighter. He tries to look away but can't. He wants to close his eyes to save them from the assault but he can't. The longer he stares into its eyes, the more he feels his body fill up with calm, with peace, with contentment and warmth. He tries to fight, to move, but for the life of him he just can't remember what exactly it is that he is fighting for. This kind of feeling can't be bad.

He lets go of the hands around his neck and his arms fall limply to his sides. The creature lets him out of its grip as it feels the last flutter of fight leave him. The leprechaun smiles.

"That's it Dean. You are ready."

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**Thanks for reading. :)**


	7. Chapter 7

**Happy Friday everyone! Welcome to the conclusion of this weird tale. I had meant to post it yesterday to coincide with St. Patrick's Day but it just was not meant to be. I may write a bit of an epilogue, or maybe not. I am feeling a bit unsure about that still. I hope that you will enjoy this last chapter and I appreciate all of you who have decided to give this story a chance. Thank your for all the lovely reviews and thanks again for stopping by!**

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Cripes. This shit is getting old. Fast. Sam's head is pounding and he feels like he's got a load of bricks on his damn chest. Frick. His eyes remain shut but even so he can see. Green. Again with the green. It infiltrates his closed lids and helps to clear away any cobwebs that remain in his mind. Right. Leprechaun. Evil. Ugly. Son of a bitch. Dean. Up against the wall with its damn hands around his neck. Dean. He is in trouble. Again. What a surprise. Sam's eyes flutter open and he finds he needs to shield them from the intensity, the brilliance of that awful green glow.

Slowly he brings his gaze back into focus and curses the fact that he seems to be immobilized not by anything spectacular or remotely heavy. He is being kept in place by a damn foot? Well, that is the clincher. Here he is, a grown man, and he can't move because he is being held in place by the appendage of a bony, nasty, evil thing. Damn ridiculous.

Although he keeps his movements slow and slight, Sam can see the creature is way too intent on his brother to even take notice of him. He hopes he can use that to his advantage. And Dean. He just stands there like a statue. Frozen to the spot. Like a volunteer at some sort of tacky hypnotist show in Vegas. Sam just waits, maybe any time now he will cluck like a fricken chicken. Okay, that is not helping. His brother. He isn't being held in place, he isn't being physically forced to stay where he is. It's the stream of light. The light that emanates from the leprechaun is holding him. And it's official. Sam really, really hates the colour green.

There is a hum, like the purr of an airplane engine as it gets ready to roar to life. The bitch is talking. And the more she does, the louder the hum. And the stronger the light that flows out from within her becomes. And it is directly solely on Dean. The colours. It's like some sort of amateur light show from a has been rock band, one that tries to woo the audience with some shoddy special effects. The colours. They are just wrong. Unnatural.

Sam's eyes drift to another source of light. The pot. Sam can see it now burn a brilliant gold. And that fricken green. It shines like a beacon, it flows from that wench and snakes its way out into the room, with the concentration of colour pooling around the two figures that stand face to face at its core. Whatever is going to happen its gonna be soon.

Sam strains to hear the words that come out of her mouth and he can't say that he is too thrilled at what he is able to make out. The words. They are definitely, without a doubt, very very bad. He's gotta think of a way out. And fast.

"See Dean. I knew you could not resist. No one ever does. No one ever can. For all your bravado, your mind is still very much inferior and no match for mine. But your heart..."

Sam swallows hard as he watches the hand travel to his brother's chest and lay right above his heart.

Something isn't right. Dean can feel a slight pressure on his chest. It's a bit uncomfortable and although he still feels somewhat at peace, he has a real sense of foreboding about the position he finds himself in. He is trapped, powerless to move or even look away from the face before him. That face. The voice inside his head tells him it is bad. It is evil. The beauty he thought he saw mere seconds ago starts to crack and he begins to doubt more and more the serene feeling that fights to keep control of him. His gut. His instincts. They tell him this bitch has done this to him before.

"...your heart. So pure. So strong. So full of life. Very soon you will leave the burden of your frail, human body behind and your true essence, the one contained in your heart will shine as never before. Free from the confines that keep it from its true potential. It will find its place with the others. The blood of our creator, our father, that lives within the cauldron will sustain you long after your body turns to dust. You will live on...and so will we."

And there it is. The sinister smile is back. And all the warmth, all the peace of mind he felt just moments ago is gone and his self preservation skills kick in. This bitch is going to use his heart to keep them alive. He tells his body to move. His mind screams out to it, just to move one fraction. And all the while the smile stays on the things face. He can't believe he got lured in again somehow, that he fell for this shit. Again. Idiot.

No. Damn. Way. It's like a lightning bolt has hit him full force and shocked his system into the realization. The pot. Of course. It is the source of the power. It is helping to control Dean. If he can destroy it, or at least interrupt the power supply, then maybe he can snap his brother out of the damn control that has gripped him. And then the two brothers can kick some leprechaun ass and get the hell out of here. Sounds good. So all Sam has to do is destroy the pot, which will destroy the hearts, and the blood. Which will in turn destroy the power and ultimately destroy the bitch. Piece of cake right?

"It's time Dean. I told you, your brother will watch while I rip your heart out and you aren't going to do anything to stop me. And then, just for fun, I think I'm going to do the same thing to him."

Click goes his brain. Turned back on to full power the instant that thing spewed out those words. Dean will never understand it. You would think that all those evil sons of bitches out there, all the ghosts and spirits and demons and ghouls and various other shades of evil would learn. Then again, they probably don't talk to each other much. But, if they did, they would know. The worst thing to do, the very worst thing, is to threaten Sammy. Because if you do, no matter how strong you think you are, no matter what unearthly shit you try to pull over on him, you will get your ass kicked. No one and no thing can withstand the brutality of Dean Winchester when his brother's well being is at stake. And that one, idiotic comment has sealed your fate. It's the last nail in your coffin. And now it is his turn to smile. And the flash of annoyance he sees on the creatures face is just the icing on his leprechaun killing cake.

Sam sees the smile and his face forms into one of its own. Alright, Dean is back. But Sam needs to work fast because he thought his brother had broken the spell before and that didn't seem to work out so well. His spirit has been upped a level but he can tell his brother still can not move. And Sam is still being held in place. From his vantage point on the ground he can see the sneer that floats across the leprechaun's face and knows that once again his brother has managed to piss it off. Royally.

The bitch leans in closer, it's face transforms into its hideous self and Dean can feel its breath on his face. "Too late Dean." The clawed hand wastes no more time and Dean lets out an unexpected howl as the nails start to dig into his flesh. He fights and fights the invisible bonds that hold him there. He can not let this happen. He needs to save Sam. With all his strength he can feel his arm start to move. He sweats and groans and his body seems to creak under the pressure but little by little it happens. He slowly gains control of his arm and it comes to grip the wrist of the hand that is searing his skin and trying to take out his heart. This is so messed up.

It happens and Sam wastes no time. The creature leans in further to Dean and the weight on his chest lessens just enough for him to have a fighting chance to get free. He grabs the leg attached to that damn foot and yanks it viciously to the side. The leprechaun's balance is thrown off and as it fights to regain its footing Sam knows it is now or never for the two brothers.

"DEAN! THE POT! WE NEED TO TIP OVER THE POT!"

Without a word the two Winchesters flank one side of the glowing pot. The very hot, incredibly heavy gold laden cauldron of evilness. They look to each other and then to the creature in their midst. It screeches and screams and hisses as it begins to realize that the two men are about to snuff it out of existence.

"NOW!"

And over it goes. Blood and hearts come tumbling out and float across the floor as if they were water and fish spilled out of an aquarium. The hearts flip and flop. They beat as if they are still alive and Dean has to fight the urge to spew the contents on his guts out onto the floor. He raises a hand to his chest. To the spot that now sports some nasty leprechaun claw marks. It could have been him. His heart could be splayed out on the floor as if it was nothing. Just a freakin battery inside some damn leprechaun remote control.

Dean's eyes travel to the creature. It is screaming. It is crying. It is dying. As the hearts dry up, as they no longer have blood to sustain them, they start to wither. The golden brilliance starts to fade until they turn to a charcoal black. And as each one of the hearts begins to die the leprechaun also begins to wither. And when only one heart remains Dean picks it up and stands above the rapidly disintegrating body of his enemy.

"Thanks for the dance. Bitch." And with that he squeezes his hand around the heart and it crumbles like dust through his fingers.

And so too does the bitch on the floor.

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**The End. Thank you for reading. I appreciate it. :)**


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